Just a Game
by E. Nosidame
Summary: AU. Clove and Cato won the 74th Hunger Games. This story is about their teenage daughter Jill, and her life, and what happened when her secret boyfriend heads into the arena. Read and Review, PLEASE!


**Hello, person who has clicked on my story! I started writing this in school after I saw The Movie at midnight, and it was perfect and amazing and everything I wanted and more, though I was extremely upset about the whole Cato/Glimmer thing, (Anybody else see her lying on top of him?) so I wrote this. It is an AU and it's about Cato and Clove's daughter, Jill, and in this Cato and Clove co-won the 74****th**** Annual Hunger Games. It will follow the entire 93****rd**** Annual Hunger Games, and a little bit after.**

_Jill's POV_

I am being poked awake by my little brother and I am not happy about it. Before he can he register what is happening, I have pulled me knife from where it is planted in my headboard and point it at him as he runs screaming from my room.

"Dad, help!' he shouts. Most people would be scared if my dad assisted in a fight they were trying to win, but I know my father wouldn't be helping my brother. That would defeat the purpose. My father is no other than Cato Parker, the co-victor of the 74th Annual Hunger Games, and his co-victor is the woman who gave birth to me, and passed down her unique talent with knives, Clove. Of course, my brother and I have seen our parents' games, the year they decided two victors from the same district could win, and how it came down to the two of them, and crippled boy and sloppy girl from stupid, lazy District 12. Watching these games makes me glad I live in wonderful District 2.

Jumping out of bed with my knife still in hand, I bolt out of my room and over the banister, landing firmly with both feet in the foyer,

"_PAN_!" I shout, spinning to face my brother, who sees me, and quickly hops onto the kitchen table, and grabbing ahold of the fancy chandelier, and swinging so he can land on my back.

"Look at them, Cato," says my mom as she comes into the kitchen, "I don't think I have ever seen two siblings get along so well."

Like my dad, she is tough, fearless, overly protective, and stunningly beautiful. I am probably the only kid in Panem with blonde hair, freckles, lots of muscle, and standing at only five one after getting stuck with my mom's height.

She kisses him smack on the lips before my attention has been pulled away from my doting parents because Pan has my neck in a headlock (and though I would never admit this, a pretty good one, but this is expected, since my father is master of headlocks), but this also gives me a great advantage, because I use this position to flip him onto the couch, point the knife at his chest and say, "You ever wake me up that early again, and I swear you will be more dead than Lover Boy." Lover Boy was the cripple who had been my parent's final kill. He squeaks, and I pull away and walk into the kitchen, taking a seat on the counter.

"We have to all be at the reaping by ten," Dad says. My parents are mentoring in the games this year, the 93rd Hunger Games. I am only sixteen, meaning I will be in the 95th, a nice even number, and Pan is currently thirteen, meaning he will get to be in 100th, the fourth Quarter Quell.

This will be a pretty regular year for me. I don't have anyone to worry about, since my boyfriend, whom my parents don't know about is seventeen. Freddie and I met at training, just like my parents did. Lucky for us, he is a year older and we don't have to worry about volunteering the same year. We started going out about a year ago, just before his mother got sick. They don't know if she'll make it and it has made Freddie train extra hard, since all his mother ever wanted for him was for him to win the Games.

"Jill, you're wearing that red dress, and Pan, make sure you wear the matching tie," says Mom. We don't have to worry about the reaping, but we will about the going to the Capitol with them for the Games, and want to be presentable. The children of victors are watched, sometimes even more than the tributes themselves.

I head upstairs and change into my nice red dress and I pull my hair up nicely, and then I join my family by the front door, and then the four of us head over the justice building, where we greeted by the other fourteen former victors of District 2. Just before the reaping begins, the Peacekeeps escort Pan and I over to wait with everyone else, due to regulations. Right before our escort, Isabella Dox, appears on stage in stunning green attire, I see Freddie a few dozen yards away. He winks at me and I smile back.

"Welcome, welcome!" says Isabella Dox, before she goes through he normal routine of reading the treason, and calling out the names of all our former victors, then she's got the girl's name in her hand.

"Alex Trustkin!" Alex is, and putting this mildly, a bitch. She's eighteen and was going to volunteer anyway, and so is on stage so fast I could have sworn she was just a ball of black hair thrown onstage. Isabella Dox doesn't ask for volunteers because the look Alex giving her says, 'Ask and I will kill you'.

"Now for the boys!" she says, paper already in hand. "Pan Parker!"

There are about a dozen shouts for volunteers, obviously, but the one that gets through is not only currently blocked from view, but isn't eighteen and I know this because the boy had pushed down the ropes to get up there. Then I see him.

The boy who has volunteered for my brother is Freddie.

Next chapter will be up soonish, but for now, PLEASE, please, please review!


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